


Tainted

by SteveTonys



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, M/M, past Steve/Howard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteveTonys/pseuds/SteveTonys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony finds some photos during spring cleaning. He finds a hard time taking them in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tainted

  _It was like the dust in that room took a whole new mental form. Sweeping into his eyes, nose, and even his mouth, suffocating him from all ends. No amount of coughing seemed to do anything else other than to just allow more choking._  
 _He couldn't_ breathe. 

* * *

  
   He shifted the weight of the box onto his side. He couldn't avoid rolling his eyes once he saw the label on it. His mother's old sewing supplies- how had this not gone with the rest of the junk? Pepper might've appreciated it, but Tony didn't know if it would be too sentimentally looking on his part.  
God, he hated spring cleaning. He could've had this taken care of, if Steve wasn't so persistent on them doing it themselves. Through conversations full of sighing and huffing, Steve finally convinced Tony to fix his-their- mess. Steve had moved his old memory boxes down in the basement a couple of months ago, so Tony suppose it was time to organize it all.  
   Luckily, he had no plans today. Seems villains weren't very fond of rain.  
   He coughed, fanning dust away from his face. Maybe this cleaning was way overdue.  
   Covering his mouth, he headed for the door. His foot knocked into a light box, sending it toppling over. Tony sighed and bent down.  
   No shatters were heard, so Tony safely assumed anything fragile wasn't ruined. Once the box was in his hands, he set it on the table, and glanced at the label.  
"H.S."  
   His head tilted a bit. Fingers slid along the top. It was already opened. His eyes shifted to the light of the door for a second, before glancing back at the box.  
   When he pulled his hand out, all he had were photos. Dusty, grimy ones, but he could still make out the smiling figures in them.  
   His father, arm around Steve, giving a smile the paparazzi never quite achieved.  
   Tony couldn't help the bitter taste in his mouth. He knew it was irrational, anyhow. His father did tend to go on and on about Good O'l Captain America. He just didn't expect them to be more than acquaintances. Or, more like, Steve being Howard's little lab rat.  
   Faintly chuckling, he dumped the box's contents onto the table. Aside from old dog-tags, photos scattered on the surface. His hands shifted through the photos, his interest mildly peaked. It wasn't common for his father to have a genuine smile, much less in dozens of photos.  
   And as he started to grow bored, his eyes caught sight of a ticking time bomb. He picked up the photo, his eyes squinting. He mildly wondered if they had an old version of photo-shop back then.  
   In the photo, hands cupped Steve's face. Howard was pressing their lips together, the man on his god damn _tippy toes_. Steve seemed to be smiling into the kiss.  
   And that was all it took for the pinprick to bloom. The photo found itself back in the box, along with the rest. The dog-tags were thrown in, and Tony held the open box.  
   He felt nauseous. Breathing turned out to be difficult now, and his eyes were watery. His hands gripped the table for support as he tried to steady his breathing.  
   A sudden hand on his shoulder made him flinch up, only to see Steve's face, washed with concern.  
   "...Tony? Are you all right...?" Steve whispered, eyes glazing over the box. Tony had a wave of mixed emotions wash over him- confusion, fear, regret- and then his breathing stedied. He watched as Steve took the box, almost possessively. He glanced at Steve's plastic smile.  
   "Heh...I, uh- Didn't think you'd, y'know, go through my stuff?" the last part coming out as a whisper, Tony's nose crinkled as he noticed Steve's smile turn nervous.  
   "So..." Tony drew out, his eyes grazing around the floor. "...Did you ever plan on, telling me about- About that?"  
   "It...Was a long time ago-"  
   "It was my dad." Tony interrupted.  
   "I just, didn't think- There wasn't a right time to just, spill it on yo-"  
   "Right time? I guess finding out in this shit-hole of a basement was just the perfect setting, don't you?" Tony remarked, a weary grin plastered on his face.  
   Steve winced, his hold on the box tighter. Tony readjusted himself, standing up straight.  
   "...I'm sorry. I should've told you." started Steve, eyes shifting to the table- to the box- to Tony- As if the answer was somewhere in this room. "I...It just. Wasn't..."  
   Tony crossed his arms. The nauseating feeling still pooled in his stomach.  
   "...It's not...Important to me now. You are. I just...Hope this doesn't mess anything up?" Steve finished, now setting the box down to hold his arms out.

   A chill ran down Steve's spine. Tony reluctantly walked into his arms after the pause.

* * *

 

   "Stop. Stop- I said _stop_." Tony breathed, wiping water from his face. Steve backed up, his back pressed against the cool tile. He winced as the curtain was pulled, and he was left alone in the shower.  
He stared at the drain as Tony gargled mouthwash.

* * *

 

   It started to remind him of vanilla extract, actually. The one his mother always used when she cooked pancakes. He remembers sniffing the tiny glass bottles in the cabinets, loving the aroma. Once, he even tried to pour some into his mouth.  
   He puked right after.

* * *

  
    _Volatile_. That did fit along nicely in his definition. He could change, grow stronger, think in new directions, even. An innovator changed the world around him.

Not the past.  
______________________________________________________________________________  
   A light kiss brushed against his forehead. He heard the rain tap gently against the windows, a blanket draped over him. He felt the couch go downward as Steve sat next to him. He appreciated the marginal distance.  
   "You all right?" Steve asked, sipping his water. Tony jerked a nod, hand rubbing circles on his stomach.  
   "Nat said you were in the basement earlier...You could've told me if you wanted to finish the cleaning. I don't want to shove it all on you." Steve continued, crinkling up his empty water bottle.  
Tony kept silent, eyes on the TV screen.  
   "And uh...I thought I should get rid of some old junk, too. Stuff we don't need, y'know?"  
   The underlying message made Tony want to smirk. He still doesn't know why he went back there, just to glaze his eyes over the photos again. It seemed like a sick kind of self torture.  
   Tony nodded again, almost mechanically. He had a brief thought of the irony- Earlier, he could hardly differentiate himself from the Iron Man suit, but now, it was all crystal clear. He was just a mindless, machine of his own.  
   "Is your stomach hurting?" Steve reached over, "I'll tell Bruce to pick up some m-"  
   "Stop." whispered Tony, as he swatted Steve's hand away. He didn't gain any satisfaction from the brief flash of pain across Steve's face.  
   A sigh escaped his lips, as he shifted closer. His head leaned against Steve's shoulder, and he tried not to inch away from the arm that wrapped around him. A soft kiss was planted on top of Tony's head.  
   "I love you." Steve said, squeezing Tony a bit tighter.  
   "Love you, too."  
   The oozing wound became a suffocating pain a long time ago. He's gotten used to the bitter taste in his mouth, and the dull ache in his chest.  
Steve leaned down.  
   "Don't lie to me." Steve whispered, his head leaning against the other's. "Please, don't."

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, first work! Had this in my thoughts for days...  
> Comments are appreciated!


End file.
